


Lord Send Me A Mechanic If I'm Not Beyond Repair

by makelovelikewar



Category: The Room Where It Happened (Podcast)
Genre: Drama, Elves, Fighting, Friendship, Other, ep. 63 spoilers, sad fire boy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-26
Updated: 2019-01-26
Packaged: 2019-10-17 07:41:14
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,313
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17556155
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/makelovelikewar/pseuds/makelovelikewar
Summary: A quiet night at the Sands HQ while the team is out dealing with problem in the city. What could go wrong? A lot. A lot can y'all.





	Lord Send Me A Mechanic If I'm Not Beyond Repair

Wyatt could see this spot on the wall at night when he tried to sleep. It was the place eye would settle on when he was thinking, or when he was drifting in the hazey place his brain went when he was exhausted but didn’t want to sleep. It sat up the wall near the ceiling at just the right angle for Wyatt to look at it as he leaned back from his work bench. Well, benches really. He'd steadily been stealing away with folding tables as his work here grew. He needed a proper work shop to really make a difference. 

Why don't you stop pretending to be a good person? The thought made his stomach drop. It always came in the voice of Stanton and Seifuku, playing on soft loop under his thoughts when he tried to sleep, or greeting him when he woke up. A dull murmur that became a roar when he let his mind wander.

“Wyatt!” His body tensed up. That voice wasn’t in his head. Wyatt turned to the door, and saw River craned around it with an amused smile. “You here with us?” They chuckled as they moved further into the doorframe, leaning against it. There had been a time when River seemed like the only person outside of Corra and Seshmir that Tseer ever talked to. Hell, they were one of the few people in the club that even talked to Wyatt. The Sands had been rather cold to Wyatt, with reason frankly, but River had always been nice. 

He knew a few things about them. He’d met their parent in meetings before. He knew they shared a similar view on elven culture. Wyatt closed his eyes, letting his head hang back over the chair. “No, not really.” River was still there when he opened his eyes back up, staring up at them upside down. 

“Well, do you need anything when you get back?” River pushed off the frame, stretching a bit. 

“Nah, I’m good.” Wyatt leaned forward, rolling his neck with a heavy sigh. His hands went back to the small machine in front of him as River turned to leave. “Uh, hey,” Wyatt awkwardly blurted out, turing to face them as they left. “Thanks, uh, for checking in I guess.” The words felt awkward and clumsy in his mouth. He always second guessed this sort of thing, afraid it would sound insincere. 

A wry little smirk crept onto River’s face. “Don’t mention it. We watch out for each other here.” And with that, they turned and left.

Wyatt turned the geared box over in his hands, fingers moving over parts in a practiced pattern. He stared down at it. No, not at it. Through it. It seemed that he couldn’t escape his own head today. Letting the box drop, he leaned back in the chair again, a frustrated sigh escaping. Wyatt closed his eyes, taking a deep breath. Maybe he needed to sleep more? If you asked Tseer, he certainly did. His head was fuzzy, that kind of prickly that comes from running too hard for too long. Maybe a nap? What could it hurt to actually be nice to his body for once?

A crashing noise woke Wyatt with a start, making him almost fall out of his chair. Muffled voices were coming from the front of the club. Groggily, Wyatt stood up, slipping into the flip flops he shuffled around the club in. Their fwapping filled the hall as he moved through the empty building, the rest of the team out dealing with some rabble rousers. Rubbing his eyes, he rounded the corner into the main hall where the dance floor was. 

“Hey River,you ok? Did somebody—” He paused as the scene before him sank in. The door of the club was in splinters and two of the Sand operatives, Bina and Shao, lay dead on the floor. River was against the bar, blood flowing out over their hand which was pressed hard to their side. In front of them were five figures in black. They had their faces covered, but he could make out a few details. The figure looming over River was tall and thin. They had a runner’s build to them and looked like some sort of human. Behind them was a half-elf maybe? They had the ear points, and Wyatt doubted a full blooded elf would be pulling a hit.Right to the half-elf’s side was obviously a dragonborn. The green scales and tail were a dead give away. The other two were Goliaths probably, still lingering near the bodies. He could just barely hear them muttering as he processed. 

Could he take them? 

“I thought June said he'd be out?” 

Could he grab River with a spell? 

“Doesn't matter. June said no witnesses.” 

Wyatt’s heart began to pound in his ears. His stomach tied into knots of anxiety and fear. Stop pretending you're a good person.

He took a deep breath, exhaling slowly as he took a step forward, locking eyes with the human looming over River. “Do you think you can get out of here, River?” Wyatt called across the dancehall, his calm tone bouncing off the hard walls. 

River glanced between Wyatt and their attackers, who had paused like a predator coming across another predator in the woods. “I...I don't think I can.” 

Wyatt kept his eyes locked on the human, “Ok, just hang in there. They should be back soon.” Wyatt took another step, this time to the side. He slipped his feet from the sandals, the floor cold under his feet. His middle finger touched his thumb in a familiar motion. They outnumbered him. They could easily out fight him, but they needed to close the distance on him first, and he needed them away from River. A smirk tugging at the corner of his lip, he took off in a sprint toward the emergency exit on the opposite wall. 

They gave chase so much faster than he thought they would. His eyes frantically ran over their blurred forms, running the distance in his head. A dozen feet from the door, he turned. He almost lost his balance from the sharp movement, but all he needed to do was snap. A tiny red ball of energy shot from his fingers. They may have been hiding their faces with bandanas, but he could see the sudden onset of panic in their eyes. 

Three of them jumped and rolled to the side, but the Goliaths were too slow. As the ball began to bloom out, a lick of flame rolled off the corner of Wyatt's eye and they didn’t even have time to scream. Wyatt settled himself into a more sure stance, that smirk on full display.

The remaining three pushed back up to their feet, the human who had been looming over River glancing at the charred bodies on the floor. Wyatt could see their eyes twist into a sneer as the three rushed him again. He raised his hand in front of him, fire curling from his eyes again, but he wasn't catching them off guard this time. A knife sailed through the air at him. He felt his body move before he could think, jumping to the side and rolling sloppily behind a table. Looked like getting his ass kicked by Tseer was paying off. He popped up, hand coming around to cast, but the attackers had closed the distance. 

The human, who was probably in charge, brought a second dagger down at him, grunting as they lunged over the table. A small movement of his palm and the tip stopped just above his skin, the light rippling around. With another snap, Wyatt's hand was set alight and he reached forward, grabbing the attacker by the side of the face. Their howls of pain drowned out the sudden sizzle. Wyatt tightened his grip before a sharp pain in his side stopped him. 

Glancing down, he could see the hilt of a dagger pressed snuggly to his shirt as blood began to stain the fabric. The hand around it tightened as it pulled back and out. Wyatt looked up, making eye contact with the half-elf person, who had moved up while he was distracted. They shifted, moving to bury the dagger in him again. Eyes wide, breath held, Wyatt looked over to the table in front of him, and with a gesture it moved toward him at speed. He grunted as it hit him in the upper thigh, but he wasn't stopping it. Grabbing hold and closing his eyes to concentrate, Wyatt allowed it to carry him along. He and it tumbled to the ground a few dozen feet from his attackers. 

Wyatt scrambled behind the upturned table as the others moved to attend to their injured ally. He looked down at his side, blood pouring from the jagged wound. He was gonna bleed out. Wyatt’s hand was set alight once more. Pressing it side, Wyatt held back a howl of pain as the wound was cauterized. 

Darkness was creeping in at the edges of Wyatt's vision as he pushed up, turning to get eyes on the attackers. The human he’d burned just moments ago was still on the ground, waving the others off and telling them to finish Wyatt off. Wyatt was sweating, shaking his head and trying to get back into the fight. Wisps of fire were rolling up from his eyes, the air around him shimmering with heat. His vision was clearing, but they were rushing him. He stood, hand fully extended in front of him. From each of this fingertips, a pale white ball of energy shot out. They twisted in the air, a slight trail left behind them as they curled together and slammed into the chest of the dragonborn. 

The half-elf closed the distance before Wyatt could line them up, their dagger coming up at the underside of his chin like an uppercut. His hands came down, grabbing their wrist before their weapon could find purchase. 

They reached forward, grabbing Wyatt by the front of his tank top. They jerked him froward, pulling him over the table while Wyatt desperately held on to their wrist. Their exposed skin was turning red and blistering from the near inferno of Wyatt’s touch. He saw movement from the corner of his eye and saw the dragon person was climbing back to their feet. He needed to end this. 

Pushing down on there half elf's wrist, Wyatt jumped back and got both in his sights. Both his hands came up, flames rising from back of his head like the mantle of a bird, the loosened hair from his top knot fluttering in the up draft. His hands closed into fists and both of the attackers rose into the air by the front of their chests. He kept them hovering as he exhaled, looking over to River to make sure they were still with him. River's head tilted to the side, and Wyatt watched their expression change in slow motion. Confusion turned to worry as their mouth began to open in a warning, but it was too late.

The dagger came down into his clavicle. It glanced off the bone, ripping through vein and arteries. A gurgling cough came from Wyatt as the burned attacker's arm pulled him close and twisted the knife. The other two fell to the ground in a heap as Wyatt's hands fell limply to his side. He gasped, soundless, and the attacker pushed hard on the dagger, getting as much of the blade into Wyatt as possible. Time stretched long and thin. The room was closing in and Wyatt's mind scrambled in a hundred directions.ideas on escape, his base survival instincts slowly fading into a dull roar; Tseer's head on his chest, the memory of them curled up under a tree in the snow as his eyes fluttered shut; the look of pride on his mother’s face when he graduated. 

Then, the swell of heat in his chest. 

His eyes shot open, his hand coming up to wrap around the back of his attacker’s neck. He held on with everything he had left. “You—” His voice was raspy, mouth so dry his lips had a hard time moving. “—should have done better research.” Flames began to pour out of the wound in his shoulder, curling up and over the person's wrist and arm. They struggled to pull back as the fire consumed the both of them. Their scream was cut off abruptly as Wyatt finally let go. He took a step forward, the burning body dropping to its knees and then toppling over. The other two attackers had expressions of horror on their faces, their masks pulled down as they scrambled to their feet and toward the exit. The mantle of flame around Wyatt's head was white hot as his hands shot out. His palm closed and they rose into the air again. 

His mouth tasted like ash and pennies. His shoulder was screaming in pain as the wound began to close. It was likely to be a scar he couldn't get rid off, like the break in his nose. It would be a good reminder. 

He walked half-elf and dragonborn to where two of the chairs were still standing and eased the two into them. He reached down to grab a knocked over one for himself. Thank goodness they were metal. He sat down, chest heaving, sweat pouring down his face. He could smell his shirt burning on his shoulder. His eyelids were heavy but it wasn't time to rest yet. Time to stop pretending. He shook his head, looking over at River, who was staring wide eyed at him, mouth slightly agape. 

“Hang in there,” Wyatt coughed out, the fire dying down but not the heat. “They're gonna be back soon.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks Danielle for proofing this rambling mess I wrote on my phone while driving.


End file.
